Dreams in Red
by DreamingNightImp
Summary: With age comes knowledge, but sometimes, it's better to stay in the dark. (Blossom/Him. Might add chapters to this later? And might change the title, ugh.)


Eleven years, and this somehow managed to continue. Eleven years, countless battles, amazing adventures, powerful villains and even more powerful heroes. A circle which went on, again and again and again, seemingly unending in its painful lack of complexity, but infinitely unchanging.

But that was the way the world worked, wasn't it? Evil would rise up and reign terror over the land for days, weeks, months, perhaps even years. It would be arrogant in its reign, letting rebellion build itself for no other reason than to have a war to amuse itself. To crush the hopes of those siding with the rebellion, to bask in their sorrows and misery.

The world did not work like this anymore.

They had made sure of that.

No evil was to great, nor to small, for their attention. Good, kindness, mercy, justice, their code of conduct. Anything could be thrown at them, machines, illness, insanity, uncontained power, money, _evil,_ but none could match them.

After all, it was hard to stop sugar, spice, and everything nice.

And on this day, like any other day, evil had shown His face, baring His ambitions once more. He had painted the skies red, shattered the hopes of millions like glass, and destroyed without mercy or second thought. He, who had not a day of rest since they had defeated Him that one fateful day which marked their rivalry, and His obsession.

It was Evil, pure and simple.

It was _Him_.

"Alright girls, let's get 'im!" Blossom called, darting off in a flash of pink to face their foe. Buttercup and Bubbles were close behind, complementing her pink streak with their green and blue ones, casting a rainbow of goodness over the city of Townsville. The citizens cheered upon seeing the light against the blood red sky, the vibrant colors rebuilding the glass of their hope which He had shattered.

"_It's about time,_" a voice echoed throughout the city, chiming like broken church bells to all those who heard it, "_I've been waiting._"

"Save it, Him!" Buttercup snapped as she and her sisters floated before the demon, in the middle of what was surly a busy street only hours before. "Lets just get this over with!" she said to her sisters, clearly ready for an all-out battle.

"Slow down, Buttercup," the leader of the trio scolded, turning her bright, stern eyes over to their opponent. "What's up this time, Him? Turning the town against us? Sending the Rowdyruff Boys after us? Riddling us until we're bored to death?" she taunted with a smirk.

"_I feel as if I once mentioned, dear Blossom, that I do not do repeat performances,_" he shook his claw at her, the dreadful thing clearly bolted to his wrist, in a mocking manner, "_No, on this day, I intend for something much different than what I have done in the past._"

"What do you mean?" asked Bubbles, who had, up until that point, remained quiet. She'd learned better than to outwardly speak with Him, as he had taken a bit of a… 'liking' to her, if one could call it that. Even eleven years later, she was still trusting, naive, and otherwise gullible. Him had used her quite a few times since their first meeting, so long ago.

"_I wanted to take a more… direct approach, this time._"

No sooner than the words had left his blackened lips did the demon strike, claws snapping like the maw of a feral animal, seeking out flesh without hesitation. The girls, having not expected the sudden change in attitude and tactic, were thrown completely off their guard. Those infernal things bolted to His wrists found their mark easily, tearing cloth and skin from who he knew would least expect it: Buttercup.

The green Powerpuff yelled out in pain as her side exploded into searing heat, the wound staining the shredded cloth red with- wait, _what_?

Astonished, the girls could only dodge their attacker as they tried to assess the situation. Him had ripped through Buttercup's skin with to much ease; it took monsters the size of the Townsville's tallest buildings to do that! Even lava and acid couldn't burn through them, at least, not so easily.

That aside, Him had _never_ been direct before. Sure, the first time they had met, he battled them as Octi, and though direct as that was, possession was used. On another occasion, He had crept into their dreams and fought them, but with an altered form and- well- being done within a dream, could it really be considered 'direct?'

He had never just… _attacked_ them like this. It left the girls dazed and confused, unsure of the best manner to fight back. Whenever one of them threw a punch, Him would teleport out of the way and reappear behind another to strike again. He knew their manner of attacking like the back of his claw; after all, he _did_ have an obsession with them, as most criminals in Townsville seemed to.

It didn't take long. First Buttercup bit the pavement, then Bubbles. Blossom, shocked, bloody, and dare she say _scared_, watched as evil Himself floated before her, a sly smile coiled across his lips like a waiting serpent. She paused for just a second to long, however, and found herself in His grasp, and not a moment later, tossed right through a building and into a back alley.

She struggled to stand up, leaning against the dirty brick wall of a building to help steady herself. What was happening? Him was acting out of character, there was no way he'd attack this- this- _brutishly_.

No, of course he wouldn't.

He _wasn't_.

"_Figured it out already?_" his voice chuckled into her ear, shocking the pink Powerpuff out of her musings.

"This is a dream," she stated flatly, logically.

"_Correct._"

"What do you hope to gain?" Blossom snapped, turning her head to face him. He wasn't where his voice had been, of course. The fact that he remained hidden from sight irked her, but she tried to remain level-headed.

"_What an amusing question,_" the demon mused from somewhere unseen, His voice further away now. "_What would I hope to gain from entering the leader of the Powerpuff Girls' dreams, defeating her sisters within them in a direct- and dare I say boring- manner, then facing her alone, while she- injured, in pain, and pretending she has everything figured out- struggles to stand against me in a dark alley?_" he teased.

"You're hardly 'facing' me," Blossom muttered under her breath. In a louder tone, she added, "The way you say that, it's almost like you wanted to mess with me before telling me something important."

"_Cleaver,_" hot breath hissed passed her cheek and neck, sending shivers down her spine. The demon, standing easily twice her height or more, appearing so close that her head spun from the sudden flash of red.

"Get away from me!" she struck with her right fist, which, to her dismay, was quickly grabbed by His claw and pinned at her side against the brick wall.

He had changed quite a bit since they had first met. Not so much physically, he was still lean and powerful, but his manner of dress had changed. It did every now and again, but as of late, it seemed a little more gender-appropriate. Odd, considering he didn't care much for how society viewed that sort of thing- or anything, really.

A white jacket fit tightly around his torso and arms, spewing pastel pink fur from the collar, cuffs, and bottom, a black belt fastened around its middle. His pants consisted of black slacks, and about the only thing besides the fur he'd kept the same was the painful-looking black heels he wore. Blossom couldn't imagine how he walked in those things- or even wore them- all the time.

Of course, what was likely the most bothersome addition to his wardrobe were the slick, sharp black sunglasses that hid his eyes from view. Him had _never_ hidden his eyes before- if anything, he had flaunted them. They were the most intimidating part about him, after all; they were inhuman, emotionless, unmoving in the arrogance they portrayed. As easily as he could convey a lack of emotion, he could mimic it with those soul-searing orbs.

But he chose to hide them.

And that in itself was terrifying.

Again, shock pulled the Powerpuff Girl from her idle thoughts as His free claw trailed down her side. It didn't apply sufficient pressure to cause harm, but did press just enough to show that He _could_. Despite this being a dream, the prospect of being sliced apart by His claws made her cringe inwardly.

Her left hand went to push the appendage away, but a quick snap proved it to be in vain. He pinned her hand over her head, smiling down at her. Blossom looked around, trying not to appear desperate, hoping to find a way out. When one didn't present itself, she kicked out at his legs, realizing with no little amount of fear that she was to weak to do any damage. Whether that was due to Him's illusions or not, she wasn't entirely sure.

She was suddenly aware of how this situation looked. Him, pinning her to the wall and leaning over her as she helplessly struggled, bloody and beaten, in his grasp. It was just like those late-night shows she and her sisters would stay up and watch years ago- without the Professor knowing, of course- the ones about crime, about theft and murder and- …And…-

His tongue, sharp and forked and inhumanly hot slithered from her jaw and up her cheek. Blossom gasped despite herself, panic beginning to rise within her. She struggled again, as much as she could, and found that all it did was help cut her wrists against His claws.

"Get off me!" her voice shook slightly, and she cursed herself for it. He didn't miss it, and his smile turned into a fanged grin.

"_Buttercup is to thick-skulled to be of any amusement,_" he said, moving so that his lips were almost touching hers. Blossom grit her teeth as so not to retch, "_Bubbles is fun to trick, but it's to easy. Then, Blossom, there's you. I can't help but take sinful interest in you, you know._"

"What do you mean by that?" the pink Powerpuff ground out, keeping her teeth clenched.

"_It's simple, really,_" he continued, "_you are intelligent. You are strong willed and powerful, righteous and goodhearted. You can trick a villain as easily as you can answer the questions on a history test. Needless to say, Blossom, you are quite brilliant. That in itself makes you the most interesting._" The demon tilted his head to the side slightly, giving Blossom just a glimpse of his cold, unfeeling eyes, "_But more than that, my dear- is your spirit. It is strong. I want to be the one to break it._"

She didn't know what was happening. Tears streamed down her eyes, though she didn't know why. Was the world falling apart, or was that her own trembling? At this point, did it matter?

His lips were pressed to hers as she stood, helpless, against the brick wall. 'It's just a dream,' she told herself, again and again, but the terror did not subside. 'I will wake up. I will wake up!'

Nothing seemed to help.

"Blossom? Blossom! Wake up!" a voice called. It seemed very far away at first, muffled by distance. It began to get closer, until she could hear more than one voice.

"What's wrong with her?"

"A nightmare?"

"She could at least not punch me!"

"Buttercup!"

"Hey, get up Blossom! Before you break something besides my face!"

"I'm… awake!" she sat bolt upright, all but tossing her sisters and father off the bed. "I'm up! What is it?"

"Are you alright?" the Professor asked, his face twisted in concern.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Bubbles added meekly.

"Yeah," jumping out of bed, Blossom walked over the closet to pretend to pick out today's outfit. She was vaguely aware of the cold sweat that clung to her, as well as the prying eyes of her family, "I can't remember it now, though. Sorry for hitting you, Buttercup."

"Whatever," the green Powerpuff rolled her eyes. The Professor quietly motioned for them to leave while Blossom got ready, seeing that she clearly was in no mood to talk about what had happened. The three left silently, glancing back a few times out of worry.

When they were gone, Blossom paused, looking into her closet but not seeing it. That dream… it was just that, wasn't it? A dream. It wasn't real. Sure, Him was crafty, but he wasn't like- well- _that_. He was pure evil but he wasn't _that_ bad, right?

Sighing, she reached for her usual outfit. As soon as she did, her mouth opened in a silent scream of horror.

There were cuts on her wrists.


End file.
